


He’ll Never Fit the Cis-tem

by chess_and_politics



Category: Chess - Rice/Ulvaeus/Andersson
Genre: I also die fr platonic Florence and Freddy like Pls.... I want the friendly good times, Trans Freddy trans Freddy trans fre, aka Freddy is Trans and doesn’t know it for a long time, before things get fucked up by canon, but Pity The Child (#2) has me projecting onto freddy, i die fr trans Freddy pls, mostly a shitty mess of drabble, this is like childhood to mid college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 10:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20424575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chess_and_politics/pseuds/chess_and_politics
Summary: Freddy never knew the words to describe himself with.But, someday, he’ll figure them out.





	He’ll Never Fit the Cis-tem

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly written at night and just a short Drabble fic post of hc ideas fr Freddy  
I listen to pity the child #2 too much and I can only understand it as trans Freddy so

Freddy never knew the words to describe himself with.

Uncomfortable wasn’t strong enough. Uncomfortable didn’t describe how he felt when he looked in the mirror, unable to name what was wrong with his reflection.

He was seven when he first tried to fix it. Freddy took a pair of scissors to his hair, clumsily hacking at it until long strands covered the floor. When he was finished, he dropped the scissors on the counter. Staring into the mirror, he slowly combed his fingers through his hair. _This is better,_ he decided.

If only his parents saw it that way. He suffered dearly for his newfound comfort, but nothing could take this victory away.

———

He was twelve when his father left. Twelve, stick thin, and bony, but he still stole whatever clothes his father had left behind. Freddy tried them on in secret, not that it mattered. His mother would never notice. He walked around his room in shoes five sizes too big and pants that he nearly tripped over. When he sat and played chess alone, he wore them. Why, he wasn’t sure. They felt better. They were comfortable. They weren’t dresses, at least, and didn’t make him feel self conscious. 

He grew, slowly. Over the years, he kept trying them on, hoping for the day they’d fit. That day, he could stop wearing the shit he had and wear these everyday.

———

He was pretty sure he fell in love when he was sixteen. He was simultaneously sure that he’d never have a chance. 

This guy was so pretty. He was smart, and handsome, and he always raised an eyebrow at Freddy but not in a judgmental way.

But Freddy knew it wouldn’t work. It was worse, loving someone so perfect, because he was so far from that. This guy deserved someone as pretty as him, with long flowing hair and a gorgeous face that didn’t rewear the same white T-shirt until it was obviously time for a wash or bare teeth at anyone who came too close.

He knew that, whatever this jumbling mess he saw in the mirror was, it wasn’t attractive.

———

Freddy moved out at eighteen, headed for an education he didn’t want and was barely able to pay for. He moved in on his own, no parent to send him off, no one to help him.

His roommate’s parents finally left her. He watched jealously across the room as she tried to coax them into leaving. Once they were gone, she collapsed onto her bed. “Sorry, they’re a lot,” she said, looking over at Freddy.

“It’s fine, at least you’ve got them,” he snarked casually.

She paused for a second, then quickly said, “That’s my aunt and uncle, not my parents.”

“Huh.” He turned back to his book

“I’m Florence. Florence Vassey.”

He looked up again. “Alright.”

She sighed. “And your name is?”

“Just call me Fred, everyone does when they aren’t calling me queer.”

Florence nodded slowly, looking a little lost. “Do you... like being called Fred?”

He stopped to consider it for a second. “Yeah. I do.”

“Alright.”

———

“What’s this?” Freddy asked, picking a slip of paper off the floor. “Lavender ladies meeting,” he read. “The hell’s a lavender lady?”

Florence winced. “It’s not something you were supposed to see,” she said. She walked over and slipped the paper away from him. “I don’t want to weird you out.” She paused and looked at him. “Actually, it probably wouldn’t. Lavender lady is code for.... lesbians.”

“Oh.” Freddy took a second to process that. “You’re a lesbian? I thought you had a boyfriend.”

“I’m bisexual, but it lets me connect with other women that like women in the area.”

He nodded. “Dunno what bisexual is, but alright.”

“I like men and women.” She offered the paper back to him. “You can come with me next meeting, if you want.”

He stared at her for a minute. “I’m not into women, Florence,” he said, confusion tinting his voice.

“Oh!” She quickly retracted the paper, crumpling it up in her hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said dismissively. “Happens all the time.”

———

He was twenty when someone finally made it click.

“You’re basically a boy at this point, Fred,” Florence said with a sigh. “I mean, everything considered...”

He set his piece down on the board. “A boy?”

“Well...” she gestured at him. “You don’t act like any girl we know.”

“A boy,” he whispered, turning it over in his head. He leaned back. “Oh my god.”

She looked up. “I wasn’t trying to insult you, I just thought-“

“I’m a guy,” Freddy said, at once feeling incredibly stupid for not realizing it earlier. “That’s why all of this bullshit sucks.”

“You’re transgender?”

“There’s a word for it?” His heart started pounding. “I’m not some freak fuck-up? There’s an actual word for it?”

Florence looked a little helpless. “Yes...? There’s a word for it, there’s a couple people in the area that are. Some of them come to queer events.”

“Oh my god.” For the first time in twenty years, something made _sense_. 

He didn’t realize he was even crying until he noticed Florence’s arm wrapped around him. She squeezed him gently and said, “Are you going to be okay?”

He wiped his eyes, feeling extremely stupid, and answered, “Yeah. Just fine.”

She pressed a kiss to his temple. “Good. Now let’s play some chess.”


End file.
